For the nation
Puerto Rico and Cuba
Ecuador Philippines
Afghanistan Iraq Haiti
live to live
with hope
in a dream
for peace.
This is my book
like a royal palm
of singing treefrog.
This is my heart
that laughs at verse.
Our life at this hour
with a sweet sentiment
without war
with jasmine perfume.

I greet you, mother,
that children suffer in
the temple of solitude
in the cemeteries of today
and the future our love
your love in step by step
which look for truth
and the sea dream wake up
in the spring in
which day after day.
Until the window
near the hour
I a worker a simple person
I writer of deep words
Ancient Rome

For yesterday is history
and tomorrow is a poem
and all poems are largest
poems and with your smile
in the blue afternoon.
My soul is my force.
The American states love
to speak about freedom democracy
which are in the sky.
Uniform in the march
in come into your kingdom
and today is the day and month of eleven years.
The point of sadness
wounds of the family
in on the television
eleven years
even people that we did know
but we hate so much remember

Crying in the sea of
Black stone the tree
in silence green in
good spiritual your
banners your marches the
are from San Francisco
from Chicago & Washington
New York in search of justice.
Well your protest in the daily
papers which will draw blood
something. River of time
toward your death
the sun of the morning

I feel cold without breakfast
with coffee and oatmeal
I am not very well the general
a neighborhood we say
forms violence the people’s
root of pain bother again drum. Blood. History shell.
For the dry way
Time secret
Celebrated the major custom
Part of life
Because the house unwrapped
grows up with justice from
the wind what passes
high, not the wind.
Want to pay a visit towards life
the look all his life all the voices of reason
which freedom is not free. When your hands
and soul our poor human
advice for human rights in tranquility
I say that love is forbidden and your words
vital seed of my dream of a universal
force of hope possible. You the poets
always listen to those who suffer.
In your humanity I understand why the heart.

why the wounds
in the snow melt
and the voices that dance as the most holiest
country in the world and the most poor in the world
the millionaires with their great interest pay no taxes
with a good soul
they close the public schools for private schools as they
rob the poor of all their life
as food stamps without
dying of hunger
as the people lose their homes
and the banks get public welfare
and they close the books and eyes
as they sleep in the subway at night
we want peace without war
we want love and not war
now now now